


got this twin bed and it's ours to share

by hersheylarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, blink and you'll miss ziam, how ot5 met is based on a post I saw on tumblr, it's ot5 bc I'm not ready to let go of Zayn, zayn pulls harry's head out of his ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 01:10:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3749404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hersheylarry/pseuds/hersheylarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry loves Louis, he knows this. What he doesn't know is that Louis loves him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	got this twin bed and it's ours to share

Falling in love with your best friend is less than ideal. Really, it's just a completely unnecessary and painful roadblock to add to someone's life. Whoever the hell is up there pulling the strings, the puppetmaster to our daily woes, needn't have bothered to ever think that would be an acceptable situation to put Harry in. 

But honestly, part of him believes he'd fall in love with Louis in any situation, with or without a higher power's actions.

It's in the way he smiles and laughs at Harry's dumb jokes. How he gets all cuddly and soft when he's had a long day. It's the blue of his eyes, and the structure of his cheekbones. The times he and Harry have Netflix marathons, and he lets the younger boy choose the next movie. The little things he does to brighten Harry's day. His stupid fascination with Grease and football, and his need to have tea. How he listens to Harry like he's the most important person in the world. When he worries about his sisters, all the way back home in Doncaster. His stupid tiny-ness. 

Harry knows that he never really stood a chance. 

It's still difficult though, seeing as they live together in a flat. They've been flatmates for seven years now, ever since Harry moved out to London to start Uni and Louis was already there. The quality of flat has improved somewhat since then, what with Louis being a rather successful author if Harry does say so himself (he's had three New York Times bestsellers out of three published books) and his green eyed counter part landing a terrific photography job (really, really terrific).

He can't really ignore those feelings when they attack him every time he turns around, try as he might. It's a feeling Harry's accepted, but not quite become accustomed to. 

In his heart of hearts, he knows that Louis would never stop being his friend because of some stupid feelings Harry confessed prematurely. And there's a part of him, in his heart of heart of hearts, that believes that Louis might just like him back.

It's a fantasy, like one of those book ideas Louis always talks about writing, and it's a goddamn good one. 

 

"Lou! We're gonna be late! Niall said the bar was packed and I don't want to have to be stuck right near the toilets again," Harry shouts from the front door, where he is already dressed. Tonight is a Lads Night Out, one of few that the boys have with their frail, old ages of 27 to 29.

"Okay, love, I know. My look takes time, I don't wake up like this, you know," Louis counters, arching down to slide his Vans on.

"I like how you look when you wake up, though." Harry says, a pout forming on his face.

"As do I, but bedhead and dried drool don't tend to pull, you know?". A bit of a lump forms in the younger boy's throat at the word pull.

"Oh, you're pulling tonight?" he asks cautiously.

"I'm not planning on it, but what man can resist the Tommo, yeah?". Harry rolls his eyes.

"Yeah,". And, yeah. He definitely couldn't resist the Tommo.

 

They're only ten minutes late when they arrive, but the other boys got a seat. Zayn and Liam have a newfound love of public displays of affection ever since they started dating, and Niall seems to have had enough of it. They're quite cute, though, so Harry doesn't mind too much.

"Boys! Got you some pints while they were sucking face. Thanks for leaving me here alone, by the way." the irishman remarks sarcastically.

"Oi, no problem, mate. Considering it's the only action you'll be getting tonight," Louis fires back, pulling in Niall for a hug.

Harry snorts, but thanks Niall for the drinks. 

Once Liam and Zayn come up for air long enough to say hello, the five boys start talking. They all met back in Uni, when they were assigned to a house together. Nobody knew anybody, and they were all worried what would become of the arrangement. But through late night study sessions, hangover brunches, and pillow fights, they'd become a family.

Being with his boys, all five of them together, feels a bit like coming home to Harry. If you asked him how it feels to get on a train up north and go to his mum's house, or how it feels to have a pint with these lads, his answer would be identical. Good friends are hard to find, and he can proudly say that he's one of the lucky ones to find a great group.

Sometimes Harry wonders what would happen if he and Louis did get together but break up. It's like when Liam and Zayn told the boys about their relationship, everyone was half glad they got their heads out of their asses but also half worried. When you're dating someone you either break up or get married, and either way it'll fuck with everybody. If they had a fight and then ended up hating each other, there would never be nights like this again. It wouldn't just affect the two of them, but people around them. Harry and Louis have long been a package deal, and to think they could end up strangers if they made a stupid mistake is horrifying. 

Louis, apparently, can sense that Harry is deep in thought about something (if he only knew what it was) and throws an arm over his shoulder. 

"Y'alright, babe?" he whispers, rubbing his back soothingly.

"Yeah, sorry, zoned out a bit.". Despite the reaffirmation, Louis doesn't move his arm. 

"Oi! Stop cuddling! I'll tell you, I need new friends, I can't keep fifth wheeling. Two couples and me, Jesus," Niall remarks, nodding his head to where the two boys are touching. It makes Harry's cheek redden instantly.

"Leave them be, Ni," says Liam, swatting Niall on the shoulder.

"Yeah, leave us be," Louis echoes, Somehow, he manages to pull Harry in closer to him. That, well, that wasn't a denial. At all. In any sort. More of confirmation. Why must the blue eyed boy play with his feelings like this?

"It's not their fault you're pathetically lonely," Zayn muses.

"Yeah, Niall, why don't you find yourself someone to snuggle, hm?" Harry asks.

"Fuck all of you, I'd rather you go back to making out.".

Louis nor Harry bother to say that no, they were not making out. Something tells Harry Niall wouldn't have given a shit about semantics

 

Louis decided at around six thirty that it was going to be a Movie Night, without so much as asking Harry if he had plans other than watching half of Marvel's films and Grease too, knowing him. Even if he did have something to do, there's at least a ninety nine point nine nine (nine nine nine…) percent chance he'd skip it to spend the night with his boy. Seriously, a naked Patrick Dempsey could be waiting for him and Harry'd ask for a rain check.

Whipped is a harsh word, but, yeah, Harry's whipped. And they're not even dating. They aren't even on their way to dating, bloody hell. Louis is just one of those people that get the room to fall in love with him before he says a word. Harry just fell a little too hard.

Maybe if he opened his eyes just a little wider, Harry'd see that Louis is quite whipped for him, too. It takes somebody special to eat kale chips for ("Louuuu, please, they're so healthy" "Maybe for my body but not my soul" "Lou," "Fine). In fact, he's even let Harry change the channel during a Rovers game. If that isn't love, what is?

"We need to go grocery shopping," Louis states, walking out of the kitchen. 

"I thought we were watching movies," Harry says.

"Too bad, food comes first. Put some bloody jeans on, Tesco's is high class," Louis saunters out. 

He's a hurricane of a man, really.

Harry does change into something less sweatpants-ish. It's his favourite pair of jeans and the dark grey sweater that might actually be Louis'. To finish off, he throws a beige coat over top and some of his fake Chelsea's (his job is good, but not that good). 

Louis looks like Calvin Klein and Topshop hybrid, and Harry has never loved him more. He's got his extra tight black jeans on (he'd deny it, but they're jeggings); a black button up, done all the way; black Italian shoes, and has his hair done up in one of those floppy quiff things Harry loves so much (Harry calls it daddy hair, but no one needs to know that).

"Jesus, Lou, what's the occasion?".

"Can't a man look good for a run to the shops?".

"Not that good,".

"Well thank you, Mister Styles, you look lovely as well. Off we go?".

"Certainly, Mister Tomlinson, after you,".

The boys walk out and to the street where they hail a cab. Louis says something to the cabbie, probably their destination. After, he climbs into the back with Harry and cuddles up close. The two boys brainstorm everything they need at the store, although Louis seems distracted by something.

"Okay, lads, Rosso's restaurant." the cabbie announces, bringing the car to a stop.

"Oh, we're not going to-" Harry starts to protest, but is cut off.

"Thanks man!" Louis finishes.

"What's going on?".

"You've been working too hard, you deserve a nice dinner.".

It's true, work has been stressful lately. His boss was replaced, and the new one has a very strong vision for each shoot, taking away the boy's artistic freedom almost entirely. There are so many things that he knows would look so much better if there was just a chance to change them. 

Louis knows this. He's listened to the late night rants, received the mid day text messages, dealt with the shitty mood drops. Not once, though, has he gotten pissed about it, for which Harry is grateful.

A waiter seats them and brings drinks. They look over the menu, both knowing what they'll have anyways, seeing as this is a London staple for them. 

"If you were stranded on an island, name three people you'd take with you." the blue eyed boy commands.

"Okay, well someone who knows about survival, probably Liam, actually. He could make one of those boy scout fires and bring us some poor animal he's hunted. Honestly, he might new able to just swim us all home, he's so strong.".

"And then?".

"Well, Jamie Oliver, I reckon. Liam could get the meat, sure, but he's not a clue about seasoning it. Also, you know how much I love that meal of his you make, I couldn't last without it forever."

"Chicken stuffed with mozzarella wrapped in parma ham and a side of homemade mash, right,".

"Although I'd like your version of it better,".

"Yeah? Having to check if it's cooked before you eat is the whole experience, then?".

"Surely.". Harry grins, "And last, I'd take my best friend, other half of my dream team, soulmate, favourite person in the world, reason to be,".

Louis can tell where Harry is going with this, the boy's jokes have become so predictable over the years it's like Louis himself is telling them

"Zayn," 

Harry ends up barking laughter at his own joke. 

"Oh, Styles, you're a right laugh," Louis says, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"I'm just joking, dickhead. Of course I'd take you. Wouldn't be the lack of water that killed me if I had to be away from you for that long,".

Louis blushes, bless his soul. Once dinner is done, they head home. Standing in the hallway, Harry doesn't want to say goodnight. He'd much rather spend the few hours until morning just being with his boy. It's the best way he can spend they time together, just existing, and something as silly as sleep shouldn't prevent him for doing it. He changes into his boxers and gets in bed. But he doesn't go to sleep, he waits just in case Louis comes rushing in to snuggle.

What he doesn't know, is that Louis does the same.

 

The weekend comes and goes in a flurry of TV show box sets and chilling with the other boys. Harry tries a new recipe he's been meaning to, and it's delicious. Louis finally finishes the first draft of a book he's been working on for a while now, what his editor called a 'coming of age, sure to be classic'. Harry looked over it, and the editor was right: it's incredible. Over all, it was a calm weekend, just what the doctor ordered, but Harry still dreads work on Monday. The substitute boss has some dumb photoshoot for him to do, that has no relation whatsoever to Harry's line of work. 

So he presses snooze a couple of times, whatever. Getting ready in ten minutes is a skill he mastered in Uni. But soon he feels a dip at the edge of his bed, and a warm hand tap his bicep.

"Hazza, wake up, love. You're going to be late," Louis says, stroking his arm soothingly.

"Ughhh, I'm just gonna sleep until Mary comes back," he says, speaking of his old boss.

"I know, but, hey, you love photography, yeah? Don't let this idiot take it away from you.".

"Yeah?".

"Yeah, come on, kettle's on and the shower has warmed up. I'll get your bags.".

"You're the best,".

"I know,".

 

It is a tough day, probably the worst so far, but Harry's mood brightens significantly when he sees a little note on the top of his laptop.

Have a good day, love !!

You'll smash it :)

Louis xx

 

And maybe he will, but in large part to Louis.

 

"You're sick," Harry deadpans.

"I'm not sick," Louis says back.

"You're really very sick,".

"Okay, I'm sick, you win.".

"I'm getting blankets and tea,".

"That sounds lovely, actually, thank you.".

So Harry does. There's a warm, fuzzy blanket in the linen closet that the older boy absolutely adores, and of course they have some Yorkshire. He throws together some soup, too, just some chicken noodle with bread dippers. 

They flick on some Christmas movies, seeing as the season is soon to be upon them. It's only the end of November and there's already two centimetres of snow littering the side walks. They're in for a hell of a winter, no matter what the cheery weatherman is saying. 

Louis has the smallest hint of fever, but says he feels like he's 'been doing hot yoga in hell with periodic breaks to drink fire'. He's a delight when he's sick, honestly. But just as Harry turns down the heat (although he's freezing, himself), Louis gets extremely cold, making sure to voice his discomfort.

"Are my lips blue? I think they're blue. I'm going to die like Jack in Titanic. You won't let me go, Harry, will you?".

"Wouldn't dream of it, pumpkin. Come in for a cuddle then.". Louis sprawls himself out over his chest, and Harry pats his hair. Even though he's much more of a little spoon kind of guy (and Louis is a big spoon, match made in heaven), he knows Louis likes to be held when he's not feeling well. They fall asleep like that, in each other's arms. It's not a horrible way to do so.

 

Louis gets over the little bug he had quickly, and is feeling himself again by Thursday. The boys have some Christmas shopping to do, so they decide to make their way down to the shops.

Harry and Louis give gifts together, seeing as everybody regards them as a couple anyway. It's a painful reminder that they aren't together, but also kind of like a sneak peak into what they could be. After all, Christmas is the season for hope. There's magic in the air, or something. 

They hit Topshop first, getting gifts for all of Louis' sisters, excluding Doris. They go to Hamley's for the wee ones. They get his mum a nice tea set and tickets to the play she's wanted to see. It shows in London, so her and Dan make a real date out of it, seeing as the boys will offer to baby sit the youngsters. For Harry's sister they get tickets again, but these ones for her favourite band. They're some semi successful blokes that play indie music with digital banjo sounds. Louis scoffs, Harry dances. For his mum, they find the dining set she'd seen on a shopping trip the last time she came to visit, but didn't end up buying. 

It's a good haul, over all. They decide to reward their hard, hard work (Louis' words) with hot chocolate from the cafe they always go to.

"Two hot cocoas please, one with extra whipped cream and the other with a peppermint flavour shot." Harry orders.

"You know me so well, dear," Louis says, taking the warm drinks and moving to the corner of the shop. He takes a sip of his- the one with whipped cream. Harry giggles, seeing the cream make a sort of must ache in Louis' scruff.

"What? Have I something on my face?".

"Yes, you dummy." Harry reaches in close to wipe it off. Their faces are ten or so centimetres apart, and it would be so, so easy to just lean in and kiss him. Really, it make more sense to make a move then to not. Yet he finds himself just staring at the boy's lips as he daps the stuff, sliding it all on his thumb and then sucking it off. 

It could be a mistake. If he kissed Louis now, their years of friendship could be flushed down the toilet. It's the safest route to take. 

What Harry doesn't know, is that Louis would have kissed him back.

They get home, but Harry rushes over to Zayn's place. He needs to get to the bottom of this, and god knows Zayn'll know what to do.

"Zayn!" Harry shouts, busting into the flat.

"Harry, Jesus, what's wrong?!".

"Just wait a sec,". Zayn nods, too aware of Harry's odd tactics not to just go along with them. A sec actually ends up being an hour of Harry lying on Zayn's couch, staring into the distance while Zayn glances at him periodically. If he wasn't as close to Harry as he is, he'd be sure the boy's gone mad. But all things considered, this isn't the weirdest thing that's happened in their seven years of friendship. "I'm in love with Louis," Harry says finally, tears springing to his eyes.

There's a pause before Zayn starts "It's okay for you to be, you know. You can't really help falling in love. Nobody's blaming you for having feelings like that."

"Yeah, but the feelings are ruining my life."

"They always do, Harry. And they always will. Love bites, man. But, if I'm honest, I don't think that his thing for Louis is the same as typical love-feelings."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, mate. I've seen and read about a lot of people falling in love, in a lot of different ways. I've seen people go from strangers to the very best lovers, and back to strangers again. I've seen hearts been broken, and I've seen them mended back together again. I've seen people fall out of love for no reason at all. I've seen people fall for two people at once. I've seen true love. I've seen people fuck up, badly, and let somebody go. I've seen people finally get it right, and find the one that has been waiting for them. I've seen it all, Haz. But you and Louis, fuck. It's never been quite like how you are with Louis.". 

Harry breathes a sad laugh. "We've all noticed it. You guys don't treat each other the same way normal people in love do, and you're not even together. I think that it's because you two aren't selfish. That's not how the rest of us are, Harry. It's not how normal love is, it's better.

"So I say go for it, man, cause I can't let you waste that. It won't be fair to the man you settle marrying. Cause no matter how much you love him, you'll still wonder what you and Louis could've been. It's not fair to Louis, because you know full well how bad he'd feel if you just disappeared on him cause of this. You owe it to the fucking universe, Harry, because whoever is up there has worked mighty hard on you two, and you're not botching it up now. And shit, you owe it to you, because you love him. You. Love. Him. That's what matters. okay? You'll never feel free if you keep this a secret your entire life.".

"You really, really think so?" Harry's voice is smaller than it's ever been.

"Hell yes, now go before you change your mind.".

He does.

When he gets home, Louis is in his suit that he wore to his mum's wedding. There's a meal (can you guess which one?) on the table, and roses in his hands.

"Harry! I have to say something!" Louis says.

"So do I, what's all this?".

"I'm in love with you,". Harry freezes dead in his tracks, not sure of what he just heard. He stands there, mouth agape for ages, until he manages to compose himself.

"Funny you should mention that, I was just about to say the same thing."

"You-what?".

"You idiot! I've been in love with you for years! Ever since we met in Uni and you were so nice and funny and beautiful and you had these gorgeous eyes and you're so fucking hot and you helped me find my classes and for the past how ever many fucking years you've been the best thing in my life and you're twice as amazing now as you were all those years ago and I am in love you. And it's the best thing I've ever felt. I've never been as sure as I am about this than anything else, Lou. I'm in love with you. Fuck, I'm in love you.".

"Bloody bastard! I've been in love with you since you were a goddamn freshman in a stupid Ramones t shirt! You're my favourite thing, Harry. You make me strong. And I'm not scared of this, you know? I need you. All of my fucking romances in books are based on how I feel about you. You're my everything, always have been. My guard is down for you, babe. I can't hide it for any longer. I want to be yours, if you'd let me.".

Harry closes the foot or so of space between them, holding Louis in his arms like he'll never let go. Standing there, Harry thinks he might have found his piece of forever in this boy and his future with him. Which is mind-boggling, but also the most re-affirming thing Harry has ever felt. To be with Louis for the rest of his life sounds like a dream come true, like the bets possible outcome.

Both boys have tears in their eyes as they kiss. It's slow and soft and sweet, and those are just the s's. It's the single greatest thing Harry has ever felt. What they have is a forever kind of thing, and Harry couldn't be any gladder.

(In the end, they have five wonderful children, Louis' books are adored by millions, Harry starts his own photography business, and Zayn is smug the rest of his life.) 


End file.
